


just like heaven

by lurKINGaroundd



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Bonding, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Just Like Heaven (2005) AU, Peter is still Spider-Man, Romance, Supernatural I guess, The medical stuff is all from the movie, The movie AU no one asked for and no one needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-09-25 05:11:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17115128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lurKINGaroundd/pseuds/lurKINGaroundd
Summary: Peter Parker moves into a new apartment, and it all seems perfect, at least until Michelle Jones starts to haunt the place.Or, the movie Just Like Heaven (2005) AU, that no one asked for.





	1. time to go, MJ

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, here's a new thing! 
> 
> I really liked this movie as a kid, so why not?
> 
> Please, enjoy.

MJ was sitting comfortably on a chair, in the middle of a beautiful garden, the wind slightly shaking her floral dress, and with closed eyes, she appreciated the air of her surroundings. Peaceful, _like a dream._

“Michelle.” A voice called, and a hand abruptly touched her shoulder.

MJ opened her eyes, and there she was, sitting on a chair, but in the break-room of a hospital.

“How long was I out?” She asked.

“Uh, about six minutes.” Her colleague, a nurse, the woman who interrupted her nap, answered.

“Thanks.” Michelle said, rubbing her eyes, trying to get the sleep out of her.

MJ got up from her chair, and went directly to the coffee machine. She was going to need it.

Before she could got out, the room’s door opened, and it was Liz, MJ’s good friend, also a doctor. She immediately questioned, “What are you still doing here? How long you been on?”

Michelle tried to recall. “Uh, twenty-three.”

“Twenty-three?” Liz seemed a bit upset. “Time to go, MJ.”

“That’s not gonna get me an attending slot.” Michelle replied. Life was not easy for an emergency medicine physician.

Out of the break-room, walking the hospital hallways, with a nurse by her side, Michelle ignored her own tiredness, and got back to work, going through patient’s files and instructing the nurse as she went.

“Oh, hey.” Flash, also one of her doctor colleagues, called. “I took care of Trauma Two while you were sleeping.”

“I wasn’t sleeping.” Michelle didn’t like his pretentious tone, it was even worse since they were competing for the same attending slot. “I was just-”

“You’re welcome.” He said over her voice, and walked away.

She didn’t even had time to act angry because someone else pushed more treatment records on her hands. “You’re on in five and eight.”

Well, back to work. She could kick Flash’s ass later sometime.

Entering one of the patient’s room, Michelle looked around. “Cindy? Where’s Cindy?”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m here.” Cindy, another nurse, said as she arrived in a hurry.

With that, Michelle talked with the old man laying on the hospital bed. “Hi, Mr. Clarke. I’m Dr. Jones.” She turned briefly to the nurse. “We’re gonna need a CBC, lytes and a UA.” Cindy just nodded. Back to the patient, MJ asked, “Is there anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?”

“Marry me?” The old man proposed.

“Wow.” 

“I have my own bus pass.” He added.

“Well, then how can I refuse?” Michelle got into the act. “Let me just call my sister, and see if I can borrow her dress, okay? You sit tight.” Leaving for another patient, she directed her words for Cindy. “Keep an eye on my fiance, and decrease his morphine drip.”

 

Living on espresso, MJ survived more hours working hard, getting another proposal from Mr. Clarke, and delivering a few sarcastic one-liners here and there to some of her co-workers, mainly Flash, for good measure.

On a quick stop at the bathroom, looking at the mirror, as she was putting a light shade of lipstick, in an attempt to make her look less like her own patients, Michelle overheard her colleagues’ conversation. 

Marriage, relationships, even kids. The usual subjects of grown up life.

One of them casually placed a hand on her shoulder. “Michelle, you’re so lucky all you have to worry about is work.”

It stung. 

In fact, she wasn’t looking for marriage or kids, that was never her goal, but while staring at herself in that bathroom mirror, she felt a bit lonely. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a companion. Did she have time for that? It also wouldn’t hurt to visit more her sister and her nieces, but again, did she have time for that?

“Dr. Jones, are you in there?” A voice asked from the outside of the bathroom. 

“Yeah, I’ll be right out.” Maybe she didn’t have time after all.

The man who had called, showed her an X-ray. “Ankle in bed two.”

Michelle squinted her eyes, analyzing. “Okay, there’s no fracture. Just wrap it up, and send him home.”

The phone on her medical coat pocket rang, and she picked up as she went for another cup of coffee. “Hello.”

“Are you really coming?” Her sister’s voice asked on the other side of the line.

“Yes, I’m coming.” MJ answered, not making the effort of hiding her lack of enthusiasm.

“Good, because this guy is great.” Mary Jane excitedly said.

“You met him? Is he there?” Michelle questioned.

“I haven’t actually met him in person.”

MJ groaned. “Okay, Mary, you’re not setting me up with a complete stranger.”

“Oh, he’s a friend of an old friend.” Her sister explained. “He’s really nice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? He could be a serial killer for all I know.” Even on the phone, she was still working, now signing some papers with her free hand. 

“Look, it wasn’t that easy to get this guy to come. It’s not like he does this kind of thing either.” Over the phone, Michelle heard her sister yelling at the kids at home and held a small laugh. “You better show up.” Mary Jane pressed.

“I’m gonna be there.” MJ tried to sound trustful. “I’m just really busy tonight.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.” The other woman teased.

Michelle rolled her eyes. “I’m completely capable of meeting people on my own.”

“I know, honey.” Mary said. “I’d just like you to meet someone who’s not bleeding.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve already had two marriage proposals today.” 

On cue, Mr. Clarke being accompanied by Cindy, passed by her, and asked again. “Marry me?”

“Yes, Mr. Clarke, of course.” She replied. “Make that three.” MJ told her sister. “Okay, I’ll see you at seven… and thirty.”

“Okay then, bye.” Mary Jane hung up, knowing Michelle’s busy schedule.

Walking the hallways, she again met with Flash, and as they walked together, they ran into their boss, Dr. Walsh.

“How long have you been here?” Dr. Walsh asked to both doctors.

“Twelve hours.” Flash answered. 

MJ sighed. “A few more.” 

“Alright.” The boss simply said, Flash left the scene, and as Michelle was also about to go away, Dr. Walsh called, “Michelle.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I wanted to let you know that I’ve made my decision.” MJ braced herself, and Dr. Walsh declared, “I want you to stay on as an attending physician.”

A big sigh of relief escaped her. “Thank you!” Michelle had to hold herself from hugging the man.

“You’ve earned it.” Dr. Walsh said. “And unlike some others, you spend more time being concerned with what’s best for the patients than kissing my ass.” He clearly referenced Flash. “A risky move, but I like it.”

“I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity.” Even in her tired state, a bright smile of realization couldn’t be hold. “There’s so much I want to do around here. I can’t wait to get started.”

“Michelle?”

“Yes?”

“The only thing I need you to do right now is go home.”

“But, sir, I, I have-”

“Go. You’ve been here for twenty-six hours.” Dr. Walsh said with a discreet wise smile. “I know all.”

Maybe she would be able to make it to that date after all.

 

About to open the door to her car, Michelle encountered Flash, who also had his car parked nearby. He congratulated her, even though he couldn’t hide the bitterness in his words.

Rain started falling almost right after she got into her car, driving on New York’s streets. “Hey, Mary. I’m sorry I’m late.” MJ told her sister over the phone. “I’m on my way.” 

“Oh, don’t worry, your date is late too.” Mary replied.

“Listen, I have good news!” Michelle couldn’t wait to tell her. “I got the attending position.”

“Wow, that’s great!” Her sister celebrated. “Well, get over here! We’ll break out the champagne.”

Even if MJ was headed to a date that she was actually dreading, mainly going because she caved to her sister’s persistence, she couldn’t help but feel real joy on her way. It was a good moment. “I’ll be there in a minute. Bye.”

After letting go of her phone, and turning up the music on the stereo, the last thing Michelle saw was a truck out of control going full speed right directly into her car, the bright light of its headlight blinded her. She gasped.

 

 

“This place is heaven.” A woman said.

Peter looked around the apartment. “I don’t think I like it.”

His real state agent just sighed, and they headed to another place, and to another, and to another.

“Peter, I’m just not quite sure what you’re looking for.” The woman told him, as they stopped by the sidewalk of another apartment he had rejected. A piece of paper hit Peter’s face due to the strong wind, and he got it out as the real state agent kept talking. “Maybe if we could communicate a little more. Maybe if you could let me know a bit more about what’s going on with you, with your job, your family situation.”

Yeah, not like he could say _hey, do you know a place cool for Spider-Man?_ “There’s not much to tell, really.” Peter politely answered, and once again the same piece of paper flew in his direction.

“Here’s and idea.” The woman suggested, and as the paper came to Peter one more time, he finally took it, to take a look at it. “How about we stop looking for a couple of months, and then we can start again.”

Looking at the paper, Peter noticed it was a flier. A flier about an apartment for rent. He looked to his back, and noticed that the building on the other side of the street was the one in the address written on the paper.

Noticing Peter staring at the building on the other side of the street, the real state agent protested. “No, Peter. Are you kidding? A place like this is long gone by now.”

“Come on, let’s just take a look.” Peter asked, excited now that he might find a good apartment in a tall building, the way he wanted.

They arrived at the apartment, and as they entered, Peter’s agent got off the phone, ready to explain the situation of the place. 

“Well, it’s pretty obvious why this hasn’t rented. There’s no one-year lease. It’s a month to month sublet.”

“Why?” Peter asked.

“Some family matter.” She replied. “They were pretty close-mouthed about it.”

The place had a good view, and since the apartment was on the top floor of the building, it had an easy access to a spacious area on the roof.

“Oh my God, and it’s got the private access?” The agent was stunned, as she looked around the roof. “They didn’t do much with it, but, I mean, you really could do something with this. Isn’t this gorgeous?”

Peter looked down and up at the view from the roof, his eyes shone with delight. “Yes, it is!” He could already imagine himself launching from this height only to go up again and swing into New York city. It was perfect.

Back inside the apartment, Peter sat on the couch. He liked it. This was definitely perfect. 

 

Days passed, and Peter loved the apartment. It was even better than the one he used to share with Ned. He was alone now, since his best friend moved in with Betty, his long-term girlfriend, but still a pretty good place. More time alone, meant more time to think too much, to think about things he shouldn’t, so when that happened he would usually go as Spider-Man, letting the fast wind take it all away. 

It was ironic how much the drama of his life was mostly attached to his other persona, but also only that could make him feel better again, helping people, seeing the city from tremendous heights, even if sometimes it hurt, it also completed him.

 

In a calm night, the ones that May made him promise he would stay home, or maybe even go out, _but not as Spider-Man,_ Peter grabbed a can of beer, thinking about what he should watch to spend the night on his comfy couch and wearing his comfy pajamas, when out of nowhere, a woman appeared right in front of him.

Peter squished the can in his hands, spilling beer everywhere as he and the woman screamed. “What? What?”

The mysterious woman took a deep breath after being done with shouting. “There’s nothing worth stealing here.” Her voice seemed a bit shaky.

“What?”

She continued. “There’s no money, no drugs.”

“I’m not stealing anything.” Peter said, completely confused. _How did he not sense her coming? ___

__“Okay, I’m sure there’s a homeless shelter nearby. I’ll give you money for an Uber and a good meal, but please don’t blow it anymore on beer, okay?”_ _

___I’m just having one!_ He wanted to argue. “I’m not homeless. I live here.”_ _

__“Okay. You can’t live here, because I live here.” She said as if she was talking to a confused child. “This is my apartment.”_ _

__“Since when?”_ _

__“Since I rented it.”_ _

__“You rented it.” Peter was in disbelief. _What is this mess?_ “Is this some kind of rent scam?”_ _

__“What are you talking about?” The curly-haired woman asked._ _

__“I don’t know, maybe there is five other people who paid deposits and got the keys?” Peter tried to make some sense._ _

__“And moved in with all their things?” She said, skeptical._ _

__“Yeah… _what?”__ _

__“This is my stuff. All of this!” The woman declared and moved her arms around. “That is my couch, that is my coffee table… Is that a ring?” She took a closer look at the table, already expressing her distaste at the mess Peter had made on the place in only a few days. “Have you ever heard of a coaster? Or a trash can for that matter? I don’t care who you are, you’re gonna mop that up. I’m getting the bucket. It’s like a pig moved into my house!” She complained as she walked to another room._ _

__Peter was all confusion, still trying to figure out where the hell that woman had came from, she was pretty tall, _how did he not see her coming in?_ “What?”_ _

__“Like a filthy pig.” The woman affirmed from the kitchen._ _

__“You… moved in when?” He went into the kitchen after her, and to his surprise, he found no one. Peter looked around, and _no one._ He walked into the hallway, and nothing. He was only having one beer, _was he drunk? No, impossible._ “Hello?” Peter called, but no response. _Was she some new kind of villain?__ _

__Just for precaution, Peter put on new locks on his doors, not that it would really help if it was some super-powered villain, but it would work in case it was only a lunatic._ _

__

__After that weird occurrence, he had some peace, but on a very fine day, as Peter got out of the shower with only a towel hanging on his hips, as he passed his hand on the bathroom’s mirror, making it not-blurry, he saw once again the vision of the same dark skinned woman of before. “I told you to get out!” She said and he gasped out of surprise._ _

__“Jesus!” Peter looked to his back, to where the woman was supposed to be, but again, nothing._ _

___Okay, that’s crazy._ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes.)
> 
> So, how was it? Let me know what you think!! Comments and reviews are really important to me.
> 
> I think I'll be updating really soon, I'm still not sure of how many chapters it will have, for now I'll put 6, but it may end up having more or less.
> 
> (Suggest stuff to me on my twitter @lurKINGaroundd, I have my curiouscat open. Or on tumblr @lurkingg-around)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!!!


	2. you get out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! I hope it's decent.
> 
> Please, enjoy.

“Okay, so what is it?” Ned asked, sensing that his friend had something relevant to say.

They got their coffee, and sat by the tables on the outside part of the café. It was a beautiful night.

Peter blinked a few times, thinking about how to explain the situation. “I’ve been… sort of seeing someone.”

“Seeing someone? That’s great!” Ned exclaimed.

“That’s not a good thing.” Peter said.

“Of course it is! The last time I tried to hook you up, you bailed out.” It was clear that his friend was happy for him. “This is good! And the fact that you initiated it by yourself it’s really cool. Now, who is that?”

“I mean I’m seeing someone that’s not there.” Peter finally clarified. 

“Like, emotionally unavailable?” 

Peter just _stared._

“Oh! You mean like a hallucination?”

“Twice, in my apartment.” He told Ned. “A woman.”

“Is she beautiful?”

“Not the point, Ned.” 

“So what? Do you think…” Ned lowered his voice. “Do you think she’s like a villain?”

“I don’t know, but she’s like a control freak running around my apartment.” 

“That’s crazy, man.” They took a sip of their coffee, and since they didn’t seem to be finding a solution to Peter’s problem, Ned asked something else, “But, hey… don’t you think you should, I don’t know, go out more, find someone?”

“Nah, I’m okay, Ned.” 

“Come on, Peter. Since high school, you know, after what happened with Gwen… since then you don’t have a serious relationship, maybe you should go for it.” He insisted a bit more.

Peter sighed. “I said I’m fine, really.”

Ned huffed, giving up. “You could at least be cool like Tony Stark old wild days, but _nooo.”_

Peter laughed. “Yeah, right.”

 

More days passed, and the mysterious lady didn’t appear. In the bathroom, Peter passed his hands on the mirror, just like he did the other day, and this time, there was no one to yell at him. _Good._

Peter was laying on bed, eyes closed, about to drift off to sleep when a rude voice cursed at him.

“Are you insane?” 

He opened his eyes, and almost jumped to the ceiling. 

“What are you doing?” It was her again.

“Oh God, what is this?” Peter whined.

“I didn’t want to have to do this, but I’ll have to call the police.” The woman threatened. 

“I’m sleeping.” Peter got his pillow and wrapped it around his ears. “It’s a dream. It’s one of those dreams and you know you’re dreaming.”

“How do you keep getting in here?” The woman questioned.

“It’s you who’s in here!” He almost yelled.

“Oh, my.” She sighed. “This is more serious than I thought.”

“Go away, you don’t exist.” Peter said, again with his pillow on his head.

“Okay, I’m gonna ask you a series of questions. I want you to answer honestly.” The woman talked like some professional speaker. “Has your recent alcohol consumption increased?”

“You just saw me drinking once!” He protested.

“Are you hearing voices or seeing things that are not quite real?” She kept asking.

Peter got his pillow off his head, and glared at her. “As a matter of fact, yeah!”

“Have you recently sought consult from a mental health care professional?” 

“Jesus, what kind of super villain are you? What do you want from me?” Peter questioned, slightly intimidated. _Why the hell did he never sense her coming in?_

“Do you feel paranoid, like people are out to get you?” She asked more.

“Why are you asking so many questions?” 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” The woman sat on the bed. “Listen to me. You have fantasized, quite convincingly, that you’ve rented an apartment that, in fact, belongs to somebody else.” She said as a know-it-all. “Pick up that pillow.”

Peter looked at the object.

“Pick it up, it’s okay.” She assured. “There’s a small red stain on the back, where I once spilled cherry cough syrup.” There was indeed a red stain on the pillow. 

“Yes, that’s it. How else would I know that. Or the fact that these sheets that you’re now soiling are from Nordstrom. I still have the receipt, it’s in that drawer right there.” She pointed to the furniture by the side of the bed. “Open it up and check.”

Peter checked it, and there it was the receipt.

“This is my apartment.” The woman affirmed. “These are my sheets. That’s my nightstand.” She pointed her hand to another direction. “That’s my picture-” Confused, she got up. “Where’s my picture?”

“What picture?”

“There was a picture there of my- there was a picture right there on the nightstand.” 

“That was empty when I moved in.” Peter told her.

“It was just there!” She exclaimed. “Okay, you know what? I’ve had enough! I’m calling the police.”

He was about to protest when she tried to grab the old fashioned phone, the one that came with the house and Peter didn’t bother to take away, but she missed it. Her hand went right through it, both their eyes widened in confusion. _Maybe she was indeed super-powered?_

The woman tried it once more, but again she couldn’t touch it. “Why can’t I?” She turned to go away. “You stay right there. I’m gonna find my phone.”

As she went away, with his own two eyes, Peter saw the woman disappear completely in the air.

She didn’t look like a villain, not even super-powered, was he seeing a _ghost?_

 

The next day, Peter called his real state agent. “Hey, Grace. Peter Parker here. Uh, the people who sublet this apartment to me, did you have their number?”

“Why? Is something wrong?” Grace asked.

“No, no. I was, uh, just wondering about the previous tenant, that’s all, just wondering.”

“Well, the woman that I dealt with, she didn’t want to talk about it. It was some kind of tragedy in the family. I didn’t press for details ‘cause I don’t need any more drama.” 

“So you think the last tenant died?”

“Well, you better hope so.” The agent replied. “Because that’s the only way they’re gonna get off this month-to-month thing and give you a real lease.”

“Th-that’s not exactly the reason I was-”

“Come on, Peter, grow up.” Grace said. “Look, it has a view, it has a fireplace. People would kill their grandmothers for a lot less in this city.”

“Uh, o-okay, bye.” Peter hung up, feeling uncomfortable.

_A ghost, really?_ He had seen a lot of crazy things in his life. Like a _giant purple titan_ from space, but ghosts? Peter tried to reason that in a world as wild as this, ghosts would be the less thing for him to be worried about, but it was still a lot to take, since even if he had fought side by side with a _wizard,_ Peter was still a science guy.

 

As he found himself on a weird bookstore, Peter hoped he wouldn’t be called to any special Avengers mission, because he had a little problem to solve with his apartment. 

He was looking through books about the supernatural, to be fair, he didn’t find anything useful on the internet. Peter finally decided to open one book when a guy stopped by his side. “Can I help you with anything?”

“No!” Peter exclaimed. “I mean, uh, do you believe in this stuff?”

“Well, you don’t until you do.” The guy gave him an ominous response. “I was once turned into dust, so I guess there’s nothing _not_ to believe.”

The weird guy had a point.

“My name is Abe, by the way.” The guy introduced himself, and Peter did the same. “So… what kind of encounter have you had?”

“Encounter?”

“I have a killer seance book if you’re into communication.” Abe said as he looked through the bookcase.

“Uh, communicating is not her problem.” Peter commented.

“Oh, I have exactly what you need.”

 

Lit candles were scattered on the apartment, and a bunch of books that were shoved into him at the bookstore, were laying around as Peter read some text from one of the books.

“Spirit, awake. Spirit, partake. Spirit, without fear. Spirit, appear.” 

Nothing.

“Are you here?” Peter called. Great, no one. _So that was useless and ridiculous._

 

After a difficult night of stopping lunatics from wrecking New York, Peter came home, entering directly by his bedroom window, hoping to immediately lay down and get some sleep, but of course, it didn’t go according his plans.

As soon as he took off his mask, he heard a scream, and then, “Spider-Man!”

It was her, _again._

Peter turned to find her somewhere in his bedroom, but she had already disappeared.

“Oh, come on!” He whined.

Peter went to the living room, and since he didn’t find her, when he took a look at a mug on the kitchen, he had an idea. Walking to the coffee table, holding the mug, he announced, “I’ve got a hot, humid cup of coffee in my hand. There is no coaster on this table. I’m going to set it down on this lovely mahogany...”

The woman appeared literally out of nowhere. “Don’t you dare!” 

“Ah!” He shouted. “I knew it!”

“Y-you’re really Spider-Man? Friendly neighborhood, Avenger, Spider-Man?” She asked.

“Yep, that’s right, that’s me, but that doesn’t matter now.” He brushed it off. “We… we need to talk.”

“About what?”

“Has it crossed your mind that there might be something a little off about the way you’ve been spending your days?” Peter suggested.

“Who are you to tell me how I’ve been spending my days?” She seemed angry. “But, actually, yes! It’s weird having a squatter loser in your living room.”

“I am not-” Peter interrupted himself. “Okay, let’s start over. Hi, I’m Peter Parker, and you are?”

“I’m, I’m a…” The woman looked lost for a moment. She took a look around, and then saw the mug on the coffee table. It had a name written on it. “I’m MJ.”

“You didn’t know that.” He protested. “You had… you had to read that.”

“I think I know my own name.” She argued back, and something shifted in her mind. “I’m MJ. Michelle Jones.” 

“Okay, when was the last time that you remember actually talking to someone other than me?” Peter questioned, daring to take steps closer to her.

Michelle started to back off as he got closer. “The other day. Th-the other day.” 

“And… when you’re not here, what do you do with the rest of your day?” This time, he was the one with a lot of questions.

“Certainly a lot more than you do, that’s for sure.” She tried to retort.

“Let’s not stray from the point here, MJ.” 

“Don’t call me MJ, you’re not my friend.”

“Let me ask you…” Peter didn’t stop his questioning. “Has anything dramatic happened to you recently?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know...” He didn’t know how to say this. She was a ghost, but she had feelings, right? “Like, dying… maybe?”

“How dare you say that to me?” Michelle angrily said.

“Okay, calm down.” Peter tried to put his hands on her shoulder, but it went right through her.

“Get your hands off me, you tight-wearing pervert!” She walked back from him even more.

_This was a mess._ “Calm down, I’m not… I’m not here to hurt you. I-I’m trying to help you face the fact that…” 

“I’m not dead!” Michelle refused.

“Look around you. There should be a bright light nearby.” It didn’t have a light when he turned into dust some years ago, but maybe this was different.

“There’s no light!” She kept walking back and he kept following her.

“Walk into the light, Michelle!” Peter tried.

“There is no light! I am not dead! I think I would know if I was dead.” As if on cue, they found her right in the middle of the kitchen table, not up on it, not underneath, but her waist was literally crossing the furniture.

Michelle gasped, and for a moment she looked helplessly at Peter. “What’s happening to me?”

“You’re dead!” Peter exclaimed, still surprised that all of this was happening.

“Stop saying that!” She approached him, and failed in the attempt of slapping him in the face because her hand also went right through his head.

“Missed.” He mocked.

And Michele began to stick her hand on his head, trying to get some result, or to just annoy him, he didn’t know anymore.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough. That’s enough. You’re just giving me a headache, get off me!” Peter started to dodge her attacks. “Its not my fault you’re the way you are. I just want you out of my house.”

“You get out!” She shouted, still not accepting her reality, and pushed him against the wall. 

Only he wasn’t pushed. Michelle’s body went right through him and the wall, and she fell from the top floor of the building.

Peter opened the window of the living room as quick as he could, and was just about to jump to catch her, _how do you catch a ghost?_ But before he could do that…

“I’m not leaving.” Michelle’s voice came from behind him.

He was almost getting used to it, but Peter still flinched out of surprise.

_God, that’s definitely crazy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.)
> 
> Happy holidays, everyone!! 
> 
> Please, leave comments!!! It means a lot to me, and really helps me to keep writing.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	3. you're a ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update!! I hope it's okay.
> 
> Enjoy!

Leaving the shower, and there was _her._

Even inside his refrigerator, and there was _her_ again.

It seemed that Michelle had accepted her fate, _identity?_ of a ghost, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still creeping the hell out of Peter.

He literally crawled the walls of his living room after jumping out of surprise when he once more encountered Michelle just _chilling_ around his house.

Peter should’ve gotten used to that by now, but it seemed like that wasn’t the case yet.

“Wow, that’s weird.” She commented about his wall crawling abilities.

Back on the floor, he just replied, “You’re a ghost.”

Michelle shrugged. “You’re like a spider, but when you got surprised by me you jumped like a scared cat.” She laughed. “How about I call you Spider-Cat?”

“That’s not even funny.” Peter said as he walked to his bedroom to get a towel. 

“Well, it is for me.” Michelle affirmed as she followed him around.

“Please, try not to watch me in the shower.” Peter requested as he closed the bathroom’s door.

“I’m not interested anyway!” She replied petulantly. _Maybe she was,_ but even as a confused ghost she guessed it would still not be a nice thing to do.

 

_Remember those walls I built_   
_Well, baby, they're tumbling down_   
_And they didn't even put up a fight_   
_They didn't even make a sound_

The _singing_ started, and Peter was about to lose his mind. He was thirty minutes on the first film of the _Star Wars’_ original trilogy, trying to start a marathon after months, and he thought that maybe turning up the TV’s volume would help him, but it didn’t, because the _singing_ got louder too.

_I found a way to let you in_   
_But I never really had a doubt_   
_Standing in the light of your halo_   
_I got my angel now_

Peter turned the volume even louder, but the _singing_ also did the same. This wasn’t helping him at all, with his enhanced senses, the loud noises made him feel slightly dizzy, and a lot uncomfortable.

_It's like I've been awakened_   
_Every rule I had you breaking_   
_It's the risk that I'm taking_   
_I ain't never gonna shut you out_

He liked Beyoncé, really, and that song in specific was great too, but unfortunately that obnoxious _singing_ was about to ruin this music for him.

_Everywhere I'm looking now_  
 _I'm surrounded by your embrace_   
_Baby, I can see your halo_  
 _You know you're my saving grace_

Peter tried, he tried, thinking that maybe if he ignored her, the _singing_ would stop. It didn’t.

_You're everything I need and more_   
_It's written all over your face_   
_Baby, I can feel your halo_   
_Pray it won't fade away_

“Fine!” Peter shouted, running out of patience completely. He turned the TV off, and left.

 

Peter tried to find any spiritual person in New York, to try and make her leave. It didn’t work, and as a last desperate attempt, he found himself in his living room expecting Abe from the weird bookstore to help him with _something._

“That’s it? You just sit there?” He curiously asked as the weirdo sat on his couch and just _stared_ into nothing.

“Come on, he can’t see me, either.” Michelle said, seeming tired of Peter’s silly attempts of getting rid of her. “For some hideous reason, only you can.”

“Okay, there’s something.” Abe suddenly spoke. “Definitely a presence.”

“How original. Tell me more.” She sarcastically commented.

“It’s hostile.” Abe added. “Wants you outta here.”

She raised her eyebrows in interest. “Actually, he’s not bad.”

“You should move, dude.” Abe advised.

“I should move?”

“I would.”

Michelle nodded in approval. “I like him.”

“No, I’m not gonna move.” Peter indignantly refused. 

“Can’t you feel that, man?” Abe insisted. “There’s like this ray of spirit hate searing right towards your body.”

“This kid’s got a gift.” Michelle said.

“I’m not moving!” His insistence was coming from a place of territoriality at this point.

“Why not?” Abe asked. “It’s not like this apartment is that great.”

“What?” This time, Michelle, disagreed.

“Yes, it is.” Peter also defended his apartment.

“It’s got a view.” She argued.

“And a fire place.” Peter complemented, and they exchanged confused glances at each other for agreeing at something for the first time.

“You know, I could find a way to tell him you’re Spider-Man.” Michelle provoked.

He rolled his eyes and sighed, tired. “Could you please talk to her and tell her she should pass on?”

She mockingly imitated his voice in an annoying high-pitched tone.

“I’m ignoring you.” Peter angrily told her, not caring anymore if Abe would find it strange.

“ _I’m_ ignoring you!” Michelle said back, but as he previously told, he ignored her.

“She won’t accept that she’s dead. I told her to walk to the light, and she wouldn’t do it.” Peter insisted, hoping _there was_ some kind of light for the dead.

“That’s because there is no light! God, you’re infuriating!” She exclaimed

He just messed with his own hair in an attempt to hold his anger.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Abe tried to understand.

“You know what? Do you think I like this?”Michelle, who didn’t look like she had any patience in the beginning, seemed to lose it for real. “Do you think this is easy for me? I know something is different, something is not right. I’m walking through walls here!”

“You know. I don’t think I can help you.” Abe, seemingly disturbed, told Peter. “This is one of the most alive spirits I’ve ever been around. She’s not going anywhere.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

“I agree with her, dude. She’s not dead.” Abe declared. “And you,” He pointed at Peter. “It’s not always the best thing to hide behind a happy-go-lucky facade.”

“He’s not _happy-go-lucky."_ Michelle didn’t agree.

“That’s because you’ve been haunting me!”

Abe placed a kind hand on his shoulder. “You need to deal with this. You have to let her go, dude.”

“How can I, when she won’t leave?” Peter exasperatedly asked.

“Not your spirit girl.” Abe clarified. “I’m talking about the other one.” This time, his hand touched Peter’s chest. “The one you’re keeping in here. Sometimes you feel like you can forget it, but that’s really haunting you, right?”

“I don’t wanna talk about that.” Peter, clearly uncomfortable, said.

Michelle grinned. “Oh, I get it. You were dumped! Probably for some guy who doesn’t have to wear spandex for his job.”

“Can you, _please,_ shut it?” Peter turned to her.

“What? You can’t take it? You bring all kinds of exorcists to get rid of me, but I talk about you getting dumped once-”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter didn’t raise his voice, but he didn’t need to for her to understand how furious he actually was, and that maybe, _maybe,_ she had crossed a line. He left the room without saying any more words.

“I’m sorry for you loss, bro.” Abe said as Peter walked away, and that was the moment Michelle’s grin wore off. _So she did crossed a line._ “A word to the wise, girl.” The psychic spoke, looking around the room, not exactly finding her position. “Show some respect for the dead.”

 

“Parker?” Michelle called as she faced his back as Peter laid his eyes on the view from the rooftop. This time, she announced her own presence, in a bashful way, even. “I guess… I’m sorry. No, _I am sorry.”_ He was still not facing her, she approached him step by step. “It occurred to me now that I probably don’t know you all that well, _and I was being an asshole.”_

From a bit closer, she spotted a very discreet smile threatening to show on his face, _okay, that wasn’t going so bad._ “I got this place for the roof.” Michelle commented, trying to make actual conversation. “I was gonna do a whole garden out here… so I could sit here and just… read.” Unexpectedly, the words came out naturally for her, these tiny details going around her mind. “Eventually, I think. Well, I, uh, I’m sorry.”

Peter let out a big sigh, and looked at her with a weak smile. “It’s okay.”

She didn’t like that smile. Observing him, Michelle noticed that she liked that one smile he had on his face whenever his _aunt May_ called, or the excited one he had while talking on the phone about a crime he stopped to his friend _Ned,_ and even the shy smile from the calls _freaking Tony Stark_ gave him. She learned the names of all these people, and she also knew that none of these good smiles were ever directed to her, _for good reasons, she admits._

“Who was he talking about?” Michelle dared to ask.

Peter took a look at her, and then at the view, the lights of the streets and of the other building’s lighting up his figure. For him, it was amazing and incomprehensible how he loved these skyscrapers, even after what had happened.

“Gwen, her name was Gwen.” He finally answered, calm and even nostalgic.

“Who’s Gwen?”

“Someone I couldn’t save.” Peter simply replied.

 

He took a sip of his cola and ate a slice of his pizza, wearing his suit, but without the mask, admiring the interesting view at the top of one tall building at Times Square. Peter wondered about his last interaction with Michelle, but decided not to think too much about it. In the end, he had gone as Spider-Man again, saving people, doing what he knows best, even if some bad memories tried to tell him the contrary. 

“Can you get me a slice?” 

Peter flinched as he looked to his side. It was Michelle, _of course._ He pushed the pizza closer to her, and she sat by his side, keeping some distance. She tried to get a slice, but as it happened before, her hand went right through it. Peter felt bad for her, and got one slice and tried to feed it to her, but even weirder, the pizza went right through her face, he grimaced.

“Forget it. I don’t feel hungry anyway.” Michelle grumpily said. 

“You don’t feel hungry, like, at all?” He asked, curious.

“I don’t think so.” She answered with no much care for it.

Peter narrowed his eyes at her, a thought coming to his mind. “What are you doing here? You followed me? How?”

“I don’t know.” Michelle answered matter-of-factly. “I don’t really know what I’ve been up to, it’s weird.

_Definitely weird._ And he didn’t have something to say to that, so kept quiet.

“Does it help?” She eventually asked, interrupting the silence. “I mean, doing what you do?”

The talk seemed to go back to the one they had moments ago at his apartment’s roof. “Yeah, I think.”

Michelle only hummed briefly, and then decided to drift off the subject a bit. “Man, I didn’t know people really flirted with superheroes.” She said with a playful grin. “That last girl you saved was totally hitting on you.”

Peter adopted a slightly embarrassed posture. “You saw that?”

“Come on, I’m a ghost, I won’t tell anyone, so… did you really did a kiss upside down?”

He huffed, clearly annoyed. “No, I didn’t. That’s just some internet rumor!”

“God, that’s no fun. I’m stuck with the most boring superhero ever.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Why are you still here?”

He didn’t intend to really upset her, but with that question, her playful mood was gone in a second.

Michelle released a big exhausted sigh. “That’s a scary question. I have no idea. Why are you the only one that can see me?”

“Don’t ask me.”

“All I know is that when I’m not with you, it’s like I don’t… exist. I guess… I really am dead.” She ended with a depressed tone.

Peter tried to put a hand on her shoulder for comfort, but it was like trying to touch a hologram, so instead he just patted the air above her shoulder, as a gesture at least. “I’m… I’m sorry that I said you’re dead. Maybe you’re not dead. Maybe you’re just very… light, with a weird super-power or something.”

“If I could just remember something about who I am, or was.” Michelle wondered, a bit hopelessly. “I mean, then I’d know once and for all.” She sighed. “I’m trying to figure it out, I… just can’t do it by myself.” 

Michelle looked at him with what she hoped was a decent impression of the _puss in boots._ Michelle wasn’t really good at this, at asking for help, that much she was aware, but being a ghost, she decided that she didn’t care, _and that’s what superheroes are for, right? For help._ “Look, you have two realities to choose from. First one being that I’m just another person who needs help, and the second one is that you’re an insane person, and you’re sitting on a roof at Times Square talking to yourself.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll help.” Peter replied almost immediately. 

Michelle should've known that she didn’t need to do much for him to help her, after all, he’s the kind selfless hero. What she didn’t know was that he also couldn’t possibly reject her requesting eyes.

“Okay. Let’s find out who I am!” Michelle declared, now standing up, for the first time, feeling a bit excited.

“Wait, where are you going?” Peter asked as he saw her walk away and then simply disappear. 

Michelle appeared again behind him, scaring Peter once more. “Come on, let’s go!”

He sighed and wore his mask, launching himself from the building, swinging away from there. Maybe they would meet up at his apartment. Peter didn’t know, he only knew he couldn’t swing _with_ her, since he couldn’t even _touch_ her.

_Jesus, what the hell did he get himself into?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.)
> 
> I really really appreciate comments, they're so important to me, so leave me one if you can!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!!


	4. sad, lonely bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

“No, I think that apartment was vacant.” A lady observed.

 

“That was a woman?” A guy asked.

 

“Nobody lived there.” An old man informed.

 

A lot of doorbells were rang, but no one had a good answer to who Michelle was.

Peter sighed before ringing another doorbell, hoping for a clue.

“It’s like I was a ghost before I was dead.” MJ commented sardonically.

The door opened, a beautiful woman appearing behind it. “Hi. Can I help you?”

“She’s young and beautiful, I bet we were friends.” Michelle said. 

Peter, of course, had to ignore her comments to not look crazy in front of other people, so he just carried on. “Hi, I’m… I’m Peter. I’m a new tenant here-”

He had plans of blurting out everything he needed, but the woman interrupted him with a friendly handshake. “Hi, Peter. I’m Katrina. Come on in.”

“No, I-”

 _“Hurricane Katrina? More like hurricane tortilla.”_ Michelle joked in perfect timing. Peter had to forcefully close his mouth in a thin line in an attempt to hold a stupid laugh at her stupid joke. “She’s friendly at least.” MJ said, since the other residents didn’t really want to waste their time talking about someone who used to live in the building.

Peter successfully held his reaction from Michelle’s humor, still doing his best to ignore her by his side. “This will take just a sec-second.” He refused Katrina’s invitation. “I have a question. The apartment upstairs, it belonged to a young woman...”

“Yeah, I think there was somebody up there.” She seemed to think about it. “But she was, like, totally antisocial, you know?”

“Okay, maybe we weren’t close friends.” MJ said.

“Kind like a cat lady, but without any cats, right?” Katrina added, and Peter smiled weakly in a false way, politely agreeing with her.

“Who does she think she is to mock cat ladies? They’re a valid part of society.” Michelle huffed. “You know what? I think we’re done here. Let’s go.”

“Okay, thank you.” Peter turned to follow MJ, but the woman talked to him once more.

“Hey, look, this is going to sound stupid, but I’ve got a window I can’t get open.”

MJ scoffed. “She’s got to be kidding.”

Peter was all about helping people, but he didn’t feel good about this. “Uh, if it’s painted shut, and you use a screwdriver t-to jam it, sometimes-”

“Oh, I tried it, won’t budge.” The woman, in a flirtatious manner, replied.

“Woah, she’s good at this.” MJ made the comment, not hiding the sarcasm in her voice.

“Uh, I’d like to help, but I, I, I have dinner plans.” Peter refused. _Did that make sense? He hoped it made sense._

“Well, I got dessert.” She boldly said.

Peter felt chills of terror, and of course Michelle had to say something. “I just threw up in my mouth.” She said without an expression on her face.

“Nice to meet you.” Peter hurriedly said and gave her a rushed handshake and ran. He _ran,_ but he would prefer the term _jogged_ in his defense.

Michelle didn’t miss the way the woman checked him out as Peter left, and well, she _gets it._ The dark blue sweater complimented his chest and arms, and he had a cute butt, nonetheless she couldn’t hold a bit of anger from rising inside of her.

 _He wasn’t good at this._ Peter couldn’t keep himself from thinking that as Spider-Man, he handles this kind of thing better. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, he wasn’t horrible at flirting or smooth at refusing it all the time, but he didn’t feel comfortable with Michelle there, by his side, commenting every little thing happening.

 

Going up the stairs back to his apartment, Peter complained. “How the hell are you a grown up woman, and you don’t remember who you are, but you remember a vine? _Hurricane tortilla?_ That wasn’t even one of the good ones.”

“Oh come on, I know you wanted to laugh, besides her name was asking for it.” She decided not to comment on how he literally ran from hurricane Katrina, and how maybe that made her a little happy. “What’s your favorite vine, by the way?”

“Uh, I don’t know, _road work ahead?”_ He answered as he seemed to fumble with himself while looking for his keys.

 _“Ah, yeah, I sure hope it does.”_ Michelle completed, and laughed. “You’re so basic, and you had the audacity to mock my choice of vine.”

He only rolled his eyes. “Damn it. I locked my key in the apartment.” Peter wasn’t in the mood to climb the walls to get home.

“There’s a spare key under the fire extinguisher.” She informed, unamused. “You know, if you ever want to reveal your identity to the world, you could make your version of _it’s Wednesday my dudes.”_ Then, MJ had a smirk on her face. “Or, maybe you could-”

Peter found the spare key, and gave her a mean glare. “I swear to God, if you mention _that other_ Spider-Man vine, I’ll stop helping you.” _Great, so he’s a grown up man discussing vines with a ghost woman, cool, cool, cool._

Michelle raised her hands in the air in defeat, and suppressed her reference of the _spider-man butt slap_ vine. A laugh still escaped her, though.

 

At the apartment, in the kitchen, Peter was looking for a bottle opener for his soda. He decided that he wouldn’t drink any alcohol in front of her, honestly, he wasn’t even a fan of it, but apparently she loved to judge any drinking habits, so it was better to avoid getting annoyed at her for nothing.

“Next drawer on the left.” Michelle informed him, noticing his confusion around the kitchen.

Peter found the bottle opener in that drawer, but he found something else too. “Hey, check it out.”

“What is it?”

It was a forgotten small piece of paper, and a dry cleaning ticket. “New leads.” Peter showed her the paper. “Look, there’s an address written on here. I can’t make that out… Is that a five or a six?”

Michelle analyzed the confusing hand-writing. “Uh, I think it’s a si- no, no, no, that’s a five. Definitely a five.” She decided. “There’s still hope.”

 

“Do you remember anything about the woman? It’s important.” Peter asked to the dry cleaning guy, as he seemed to remember seeing Michelle going there.

“She’s pleasant, but… a little dull maybe.” The man observed.

“Dull?” Peter and MJ said at the same time. Not that the guy in front of them could hear, or _see_ her.

“When I think of her… I think of sadness, loneliness.” 

“You know what?” Michelle seemed angered. “I don’t need a psychological profile from this guy. I bet I was a badass successful woman and because of that everyone thinks that I am a sad, lonely bitch. Can we just get my clothes?”

“Can I get the clothes?” Peter requested, fully ignoring MJ’s voice at his ear.

“Item left too long.” The man explained. “We give them to homeless shelter.”

“Oh, great. They gave away my clothes.” 

“Okay, let’s go.” Peter said in a nervous sing-song voice, and the dry cleaning guy glanced to his side as if he was looking for who was Peter talking to. At the door, he added, noticing MJ’s still angrily staring at the poor man. “Are you coming or not?”

At this point, Peter was beginning to care less if people thought he was going crazy, and the dry-cleaning guy witnessed a scene of Peter talking to no one, “You’re a ghost, what do you need clothes for, anyway?”

 

The next stop; the address from the small piece of paper.

“425, I think.” Peter said as he looked at the numbered house. It was an address of the suburbs. He didn’t like this part of town, his webs weren’t really efficient without the great heights. “Look familiar?”

“Not really.” Michelle replied.

“Can I help you?” A man answered the door. 

“Hi, uh, t-this might sound a little odd, but I was wondering if you knew a certain woman. Curly brown hair, around…” Peter raised his hand above Michelle’s head, trying to measure, _she was indeed tall,_ taller than him at least. “five-foot-ten?”

“Oh my God, who are you?” The man seemed distraught. 

“Uh, I don’t know you-”

“Did my wife hire you?” 

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I knew she’d find out.” The man angrily declared. “Whatever she’s paying you, I’ll double it. Anything you want.”

“I-I’m not looking for money.” Peter said, and MJ watched the interaction, perplexed. 

A feminine voice in the background, coming from inside the house was heard, “Who is it?”

“That’s her.” The man noticed his wife approaching. “Come back around six, I’ll have a check ready.”

“Wait, but-” Peter tried, but the door was quickly shut at his face. He looked at Michelle in complete confusion. “Wow.”

 

They remained silence in the way to Peter’s car, and then he decided to open his mouth. “Uh, I, I just wanted you to know that I w-won’t judge you-”

“What? You don’t think that I actually had sex with that old horndog.”

Peter grimaced. “It… kinda looks that way, MJ.”

“It’s Michelle.” She corrected. “And that’s disgusting.”

Peter sighed, and opened the car’s door for her, like a gentleman. For an outsider, that action looked stupid and useless, _but did he care at this point?_ To be honest, even if he had seen so many wild things in his life, watching her go through the door and then take a seat kind of freaked him out a bit. She could walk through doors, but seat on the car’s armchair without a problem, _mysteries._

“Thank you.” 

The sarcastic hint on her gratefulness was not missed by Peter, but he just replied, “No problem.”

Inside the car, Michelle was too busy thinking about her relationship with that unknown man, and missed the figure of Liz Allan, on the other side of the street, at the door of the house numbered 426.

 

As they drove, MJ voiced her musings, “What was I doing with my life?”

A part of Peter wanted to laugh out of nervousness, but a bigger part of him felt bad that the ghost version of Michelle didn’t seem to like her once alive version.

“Really, what was I doing? A married, white, old man? For the love of God, why?” She complained to herself, because Peter definitely didn’t have any answers for that, and when she glanced at the window, looking at the city, something in her mind shifted. “Wait, wait, stop the car!”

“W-what, what?” Peter asked, and stopped the car as soon as he could.

“I saw a place.” 

 

Walking to the restaurant that seemed familiar to MJ, she continued with her musings. “Was I slut-shaming myself? So what if I was a slut? Okay, the white old man was a disgusting choice, but there’s nothing wrong with having a sexual appetite.”

“Not at all.” Peter agreed mindlessly. He wondered if she was always a talkative person, or maybe that was due to her being a lone ghost with only him to talk to.

“Of course, look who I’m talking to, Mr. Tried To Feel Me Up that one time.” 

“I didn’t- I wasn’t- What’s your problem? I was agreeing with you.” Peter indignantly said.

“Peter.” They got closer to the restaurant, and she completely dropped their current subject of conversation. “This is it.”

“You recognize it? Good. Come on.”

 

Inside the restaurant, she gasped. “I love this restaurant.”

“Did you eat here a lot?” He asked.

“No. I never did. I remember looking in that window and wishing I could eat in here.”

Peter made a face in confusion. “Why didn’t you?”

“I wanted to, I just never got around to it.” Michelle tried to explain, she sighed. “Maybe the dry cleaner guy was right about me.”

They were about to leave the place, and Peter had just rejected a waiter from assisting him, when they heard glass shattering, a worried voice shouting, and they saw a man falling to the floor.

“We need an ambulance.” Someone said.

Peter’s first instinct was to help, but in that case he couldn’t do much. There wasn’t a bad guy to defeat, just a poor man choking on his own food.

“God, we need a _doctor.”_ A voice exclaimed. “We really have to find a _doctor._ Is there a _doctor_ here? Anyone?”

The words seemed to hit her mind, one by one, getting stronger by the second, until the moment Michelle knew what to say. “Feel his chest.”

“What?” Peter didn’t understand.

“His chest, check and see if it’s bloated.” 

“How would I know?”

“Just do it!” She demanded.

Peter wanted to help the man from the beginning, and it didn’t seem like anyone else in the restaurant knew what to do, so he decided to trust her. “Excuse me. Pardon me. I need to feel his chest.” He declared as he made his way to the poor guy.

“Can you feel his ribs?” Michelle asked.

“No, but I can if I press down.” Peter answered, kneeled down, touching the body.

“What are you doing?” Another man questioned, clearly lost on Peter’s actions.

“Does he feel bloated?” Michelle asked more.

“Uhh, I think so.”

“Think what?” The same man questioned again, and once more Peter ignored him, choosing to focus on MJ.

“Tell them you’ll need a sharp paring knife and a bottle of vodka.” Michelle informed.

“Uh, I’m gonna need a sharp paring knife and a bottle of vodka.” He repeated the words

“What’s wrong with him?” It was another question from the confused man close to Peter.

“It’s a tension pneumothorax.” Michelle informed.

“I think it’s a tension nemothaxer.” Peter lamely answered.

 _“Pneumothorax!”_ MJ corrected. 

“Pneumotaxer.” He tried.

 _“Pneumothorax!”_ She said again. “Okay, never mind.”

“Never mind!” Peter mirrored Michelle. 

“But what is it?” The worried man still asked.

“The air is escaping out of the lungs into his chest.” Michelle declared and Peter tried to follow her words the best he could at the moment. “Open his shirt.” She instructed.

“Open his shirt.” He said like a repeating parrot.

“No, you do it!” Michelle scolded him.

“I’ll do it!” Peter said, refusing the man’s hand that was about to help.

“There’s a valve at the opening of the lungs. If it doesn’t close, it constricts the lungs and compresses the organs. Now, I want you to feel for his ribs again.” She was instructing him like a professional. “The spot between two ribs, do you feel that?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, splash some vodka into it.”

He obeyed.

“Alright, get the knife.”

“Okay.” Peter looked around. “Uh, can I ask everyone just to stand back a little bit here? A little bit further, please. A little bit further. Thank you.” Maybe that way he could talk a bit more with MJ without sounding completely out of his mind. “What am I doing with the knife?” He whispered.

“Make an incision.” Michelle answered, and she saw the dread on his face. Peter could punch a guy into oblivion, but stabbing one with a knife in an attempt to save them felt weird. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.” She assured. “You’re gonna make a small hole for the air to escape. So put the knife into that spot.”

“How do you know this?”

“I don’t know, I just do! Now do it!” 

Peter managed to make a small hole in the man’s body. 

“All right, now, take the pourer out of the vodka bottle.” 

He followed her instructions. 

“You’re doing good, now put the pourer in the hole that you made. It’s gonna keep the wound open so air can escape.” Michelle noticed a bit of hesitation on him. “Just do it!”

Peter did it, and then the poor man was breathing again.

“He’s breathing.” Michelle whispered to herself.

“He’s breathing!” Peter exclaimed, surprised that this went okay.

“I’m a doctor.” MJ realized.

“I’m a doctor!” Peter repeated her words again.

“I know! Thank God” The confused man from before said, and went to shake his hand. “The ambulance will be here right away.”

“Ask where the nearest hospital is.” Michelle requested.

“Do you know where the nearest hospital is?”

“Just a few blocks from here, St. Matthews.” The man answered.

“St. Matthews?” The name hit her with so much familiarity. 

 

Walking, on their way to the hospital, Michelle was excited. “I may have been a lonely bitch getting myself involved with disgusting men, but I saved lives! Peter, I worked in that hospital. I know it, it sounds so familiar!”

Peter saw something in her eyes, a new light, something he had never seen in her before, and it looked good. She also sounded a bit like him whenever he was talking about his Spider-Man adventures, it was the same kind of excitement. He couldn’t hold a smile as he watched her.

“So how did it feel saving someone in a conventional style?” She teased.

“Not that having a ghost instructing me what to do is any conventional, but I still prefer my way.” Peter replied. “If you’re alive after all, and I don’t know, if we bring you back, then maybe I’ll ask you to patch me up the next time I get beaten up.”

He said it very carelessly, and maybe he shouldn't have, because she genuinely smiled, and he soon noticed a hope burning in her eyes. Peter didn’t think he had the right to bring that hope out, since he had no idea if bringing her back was somehow possible.

“If I’m alive, if I come back… do you promise to take me on a swing? Around New York.” Michelle proposed that with a voice so sweet, in a way that he could’ve never imagine her doing before.

“I promise.”

_It was the least he could say._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.)
> 
> It's 2019!
> 
> I should just leave (?) in how many chapters this is going to have, but I'm trying to guess, so I'll leave 10.
> 
> Comments are what motivates me the most, so please make sure to leave me one!!!
> 
> (Find me on twitter: @lurKINGaroundd and tumblr: lurkingg-around. Feel free to ask/suggest me stuff there.)
> 
> Thank you so so much for reading!!!


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